Equivalent Exchange
by Completely Different
Summary: Whether they know it or not, a price has been paid, and a life has been bought.
1. Chapter 1

_**Author's Note: **__I've given this fic a 'Teen' rating for language, but depictions of violence should be about equal to the source material. The main relationship is Wally X Artemis- there may be a couple others, perhaps Conner x M'gann and Bart x Jaime, but they're going to be very much in the background, which is why I did not tag them._

_**Chapter One**_

__Magic has laws.__

__They are not like the laws of physics. They cannot be graphed or calculated or put into equations: at least, not using any system of mathematics yet created by humans. They are more instinctual that that. They run through the blood, not the brain.__

__The greatest of the magical laws is this: everything has its price. And nothing has a higher price-tag than a life. There is only one way you can buy one of those: a life, in turn.__

__But how does one define a life, really?__

oOo

For a long time, there is nothing. Then there is __something__.

It isn't much. Just an awful lot of white and cold, but it is __something,__and that in of itself is remarkable.

oOo

It's the first day of term, and Artemis couldn't be more excited.

She knows that excitement will wear off soon enough, of course, once the essays and assignments start piling up, but for now, she can't keep a smile off her face. It has been a __long __time since since her last exam, back in May. Only a matter of months, technically, but it feels like forever. A lot of stuff happened in those five months. She died, for a start.

Honestly, it's amazing how easy it has been to put her life back together after her supposed death. Her family, her team-mates, and those in 'the know'- well, they're used to so much weird shit that '__faking your own murder to infiltrate an evil society__' hadn't been particularly difficult to accept. If in the end, the plan hadn't worked off, they probably would have been a whole lot angrier about the whole thing, but the euphoria of successfully stopping an alien invasion really had put a damper on all of that. Everyone was just happy that she was alive, and welcomed her back into the fold without much fuss.

Artemis hadn't been expecting it to be quite so easy for her civilian friends (few as they were) to believe, and she just knew that stuff like government and college paper-work was going to be a pain, but she'd gotten through it. She'd gone with a kidnapping cover-story. Said she'd been stuck with some evil supervillain, which wasn't even technically a lie. Her supposed rescue at the hands of the Justice League had been a miracle. A few people asked about the body- but the funeral had been closed casket, on account of there __being __no body, but it made it easy to claim that it had simply been misidentified. There had been a lot of crying, a lot of hugs, a lot of casseroles. On the paper-work front, it seemed that most large institutions __did __actually have protocols in place for this sort of thing. Or maybe Batman had helped grease the wheels a bit.

End result: she's now legally considered alive again, signed up for four new classes, and eager to start fall semester. Her time undercover was draining, mentally, physically __and __emotionally, and to be honest, the two months afterwards hadn't much better. She's looking forward to getting back to work- specifically, the nice __normal __work of school.

So when the alarm rings at seven-thirty in the morning, she doesn't even complain or hit the snooze button once. She takes the time for a nice breakfast, making sure Brucely gets a large one of his own. She puts on a cute outfit. She takes Brucely for a morning walk. She checks to make sure all her books and stationary are in order, and that she knows where to find her classes. She even pots a cheery little status on Facebook, something she hardly __ever __does.

Then Artemis Crock grabs her keys and heads out the door, more than ready for a new day.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

Two months back on the team, and things almost feel normal again.

When he had gone on the mission, Kladur'ahm hadn't allowed himself to think much of the life he had left behind. It would have made it too difficult, to think of his friends, his loved ones, his team-mates, the ones who were making their way without him, thinking him a turn-coat. He dedicated himself to his part, that of the loyal son, one who felt nothing but anger and betrayed towards the Justice League.

He had forgotten how much he had missed this. The laughter and the openness and the spontaneity, even in the face of incredible danger. Sometime, in the first few weeks after he had returned, Kaldur had had to repress the urge to order everyone to be quiet, to _behave_. After over a year of military discipline, the Team's playfulness had seemed absurd, dangerous. It was not. Just because his comrades were easy showing joy did not mean they were not capable.

Finally, he has found himself settling back into the role he once had. To say that Atlantean public opinion of him is low would be an understatement in the extreme, but he has reconciled with both his King and Queen, who assure him they couldn't be prouder of his work. He has re-earned La'gann's respect, and the two of them have taken to sharing private training sessions to keep their underwater abilities sharp. The youngest heroes, the ones who only came to the team after his departure, had originally seemed split between mistrusting him and being in awe of them- but those feelings are finally fading, and they are coming to see him as merely another leader, like Superboy, Miss Martian and Nightwing.

As for those three, some of his oldest friends from the surface world...well. Though he has never said as much, Conner is more than happy to have him back- they often train together as well, or discuss tactics, or perhaps converse about books they have recently read. He has calmed a lot in the past year. Grown a lot.

M'gann...was harder. She was clearly relieved and thankful for his return, but otherwise things were tense. She put on a professional face in front of the Team, but in private he could nearly feel the guilt radiating off her. Eventually he had pulled her aside. "I forgive you," he had told her. "While I cannot condone some of your actions in this past year, what you did to my mind was a consequence of my own choices, and I bear the fault. We should have told you the truth."

"But I..." the Martian had began.

"Yes," the Atlanean had agreed. "You made a mistake. But you fixed it. And I still consider you my friend."

Things have been better since then.

As for Nightwing...well, he still has not returned to the team. Kaldur does not blame him. He carried a lot of weight, acting as leader in such a trying time. He deserves a chance to clear his head, focus on other duties. They still talk, occasionally. Last Kaldur heard, he's working on some cases in Bludhaven, taking down some of the major crime-bosses.

Kaldur hopes he will return soon. They started the team, Nightwing, Superboy and himself. It would be good to have the original three back together.

oOo

The first thing he does is run.

It's not even a choice; the first thing he's conscious of, besides the whiteness and the cold, is the movement of his legs, the pump of his arms, the blood in his ears. It feels _amazing_.

For some time- he's not sure how long- he simply savours that feeling, enjoying the sharpness of the air in his lung and rush of the world moving past. It's only after the initial euphoria is past he notices how...odd the situation is.

Point One: he's either somewhere very far north, or very far south, judging by the endless expanse of ice going in all directions, and the temperature. He suspects he would be freezing by now, if the running wasn't keeping him warm.

The running. That's Point Two. There's not a lot in the way of geographic markings out here, so it's difficult to tell, but he's pretty sure tat he's running at a really high speed. Really,_ really_ high. Beyond the capabilities of a normal human, kind of thing.

Why is he at a pole? How can he run so fast? He's not sure. And that realization leads him to another one- Point Three.

He doesn't know his name.

The discovery stuns him, to the point where he nearly trips and just narrowly avoids crashing, head first, onto the icy ground. Instead, he just barely manages to skid to a halt.

He doesn't know his own _name_.


End file.
